by Tinnean
And yeah, I knew their names. I had my reputation as a badass to consider.
Off to one side, John Robert’s friend Pat sat tuning up an acoustic guitar. This was the same kid who’d almost been arrested last year, the one who’d had a little too much fun tapping on his glass whenever he felt it had been too long since Theo and Matheson’s last kiss.
I did have to grin, though. They were all dressed in formal wear, even the littlest kid, who, I had to admit, looked cute. Maybe Quinn had a point about wanting a kid. I knew I’d never do a good job raising a rug rat, but I had no doubt he’d be a great father.
Theo and Matheson walked into the chamber, and I crossed the room to join them.
Theo did a double take. “Vince? What are you doing here?”
“I’m officiating.”
“You can’t do that!” His brows met above his nose. “Can you?”
“Sure I can.”
“I knew as soon as I learned Massachusetts had legalized same-sex marriage that I was going to do this with you,” Matheson said. “Our license is the paper gift I’m giving you for our anniversary.”
Theo’s eyes became bright with tears, and his lower lip quivered. “Oh, babe.”
I held out my hand. “The rings, Matheson?”
“Yes, sir.” Matheson gave me the bands they’d first exchanged a year ago, and while I returned to the front of the chamber, Mrs. Wainwright brought them red rosebuds for their lapels.
Music filled the room, and as Pat played his guitar, John Robert and Marti sang. Theo and Matheson came to stand before me.
The music tapered off, and everyone waited expectantly. Okay, it was time for me to do my thing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today....”
~*~
IT HAD BEEN AN interesting experience, and I’d wound up not only officiating at Theo and Matheson’s wedding, but for another young couple who’d sat in on the ceremony, waiting for the city clerk to marry them. They were so enthralled by an essay I’d read that they decided they wanted me to perform the ceremony for them as well.
I took care of the paperwork, shook hands with everyone, wished Theo and Matheson an enjoyable honeymoon, and left, with Balm keeping pace beside me.
He took a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbed at his eyes and blew his nose, then cleared his throat as we walked down the stairs.
“What is it?”
“That was beautiful. If… if I decide to get married, would you officiate?”
I came to a dead stop and turned to look at him. “You and Weber?”
Color mounted his cheeks. “Life is short. He’s already lost one partner. And I’ve never had one.”
Balm had a point. “Let me know if you decide to do this. I’ll need at least a week’s notice to apply for another designation certificate.”
“Thanks, Mr. Vincent.” He held out his hand, and I shook it.
On the flight back to Fairfax, I took out The Art of Marriage, the little essay I’d come across and which I’d read at the weddings I’d just officiated at.
And I began to give marrying Quinn serious thought.
~*~
BY THE TIME I arrived back at Aspen Reach, I’d come to a decision. As soon as Quinn came home, I would ask him to marry me. I didn’t think he’d say no. I was solvent, made a good living, and didn’t eat peas with a knife or talk with my mouth full. He said he loved me, and he knew I loved him.
Yeah, I was going to propose.
I let myself into the condo, surprised when I was enveloped by the aroma of coffee, fresh-baked bread, and something that was vaguely familiar.
“Did you have a good day?” Quinn looked up from whatever he was making for our dinner and grinned at me.
“You’re home.”
“I am.”
I pulled him into my arms and kissed him, then buried my face against his neck and inhaled. He smelled even better than what he was cooking.
“I take it you missed me.”
“You bet. What are you doing?”
“Debearding mussels. I thought we’d have seafood stew for dinner.”
“Sounds good. So. How did the meeting go?”
“I was pleased with it.”
“You’ll be going on a book tour, then?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Probably in a month or so. Details have to be sorted out, arrangements made.”
“Hmm.”
“How was your day?”
“Good.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I tried calling you to let you know I’d be home today earlier than I’d planned, but it went directly to voicemail.”
“I had my phone set to etiquette mode, and I must have forgotten to check it.”
He gave me a curious glance. “That’s not like you.”
It wasn’t, and I had to admit I was annoyed with myself. “I was up in Massachusetts.”
“Ah. That’s right, you were going to officiate at Theo’s and Matheson’s wedding.”
“Yeah.”
“That was kind of you.” He laughed when I scowled and kissed the corner of my mouth. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” I hadn’t meant to use those particular words—not at this time, at least—but fortunately, Quinn didn’t notice. “Anyway, I’d found this essay, and I read it to them after they said I do.” I fished the piece of paper from my pocket and handed it to him. “Would you read it and… uh… maybe give it some thought?”
“Of course.” He scanned the page, looking puzzled.
“Good. Uh… I’m gonna take a shower and change.”
I could feel him watching my back as I strode out of the kitchen and down the hallway. For a second I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest. Yeah, this was that important to me.
And then I got pissed with myself. This was an ass-backward way to propose. Quinn might not even get the idea…
Jesus, where were my brains? I turned around to go back and tell him I wanted to marry him, and I walked right into him.
“Quinn?”
“Mark?” He held up the paper and stared into my eyes.
We spoke at the same time. “Will you—?”
“Are you asking me to—?”
“Yes.”
“In that case… Yes.”
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close.
“Are you sure, Mark?” He could ask that?
“Yeah, I’m sure. You’re the right partner for me, and I’ll try my damnedest to be the right partner for you.”
He sighed and leaned his head against my shoulder. “We’ll make this work.”
“Damn straight we will. So we’re engaged?”
“Yes, Mark.” His eyes were bright. I loved when they got like that.
And just to get us off on the right foot as a newly engaged couple, I kissed him.
II
DINNER WAS READY by the time I got out of the shower and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.
Quinn had the dining room table set. A serving dish held potatoes, and beside it was a basket of warm French bread. In the center of the table was the stew in a silver tureen—“Where’d this come from?”
“I brought it with me.” He’d put most of the contents of his town house in storage after he’d sold it to DB at a fair price. The market was pretty hot, and he could have gotten a lot more, but I figured Quinn had given DB a good price because DB was family. “I couldn’t bear to leave it.”
“Pretty.”
“I thought so.” He scooped some potatoes onto my plate, added the stew, then did the same to his plate. “It was a housewarming gift from Gregor when I first moved into my town house.”
I stopped in the middle of grinding pepper on my potatoes. “Oh God.”
“What?” He looked concerned.
“This means Novotny is going to be my father-in-law.”
He burst out laughing, reached across to take my hand, and brought it to his
mouth. “I do love you, Mark.”
“Yeah, well, I love you too, in spite of the fact Novotny is part of the deal.”
Quinn leaned closer, took a piece of the fish from my plate, and offered it to me.
“You’re feeding me?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Okay, just wanted to be certain.” I opened my mouth and let him slide the haddock in. The flavor burst on my tongue, and I couldn’t help moaning.
“Good?”
I had to finish chewing before I could talk—the fish was almost melt-in-your-mouth tender. “Are you kidding? This is fantastic.” I’d only ever had something this good when Tío Ze had made it, shortly before my old lady chucked him out.
“I’m glad.” He took a bite for himself before he fed me another.
~*~
“WHERE’D YOU GET THE recipe for this?” I asked Quinn as we worked together to clear the table. The plates and silverware were rinsed off and placed in the dishwasher, and Quinn hand-washed the tureen. There were no leftovers.
“I searched online for it.”
“You did a great job.”
He gave a slight bow. “Thank you.”
“So.” I closed the dishwasher door and leaned back against the counter, watching his competent movements.
“Yes?”
“How long did you want to be engaged?”
He paused in drying the tureen, but when he didn’t say anything, I stopped admiring his sleek movements and glanced up at him. “Quinn?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t get over the fact that you want to marry me.”
I scowled at him. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?” Dammit, I hated that he’d been so uncertain because it had never occurred to me that I would find anyone I’d consider marrying.
“You hadn’t seemed interested when Theo and William married.”
“It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested.” I looked down at my hands. I had a lot of blood on them. “Why would you want to tie yourself to someone like me for life?” I’d done a lot of things for the WBIS, but while Quinn had killed when it had been necessary, he hadn’t taken any pleasure in it. Not to say that I’d enjoyed it—well, okay, there had been times when I had—but I did whatever it took to get the job done.
He set the tureen aside, gripped my shoulders, and gave me a shake. “I want you. I had the option of having other people—men or women—and I never took anyone up on it. You… We’re getting married. Accept it, and don’t think you can back out of it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” He pulled me into a hug and nuzzled my neck. “Now, I think a month is long enough for an engagement. We’ll keep the guest list fairly small.”
That wouldn’t matter a hill of beans, since I didn’t have much of a family.
Quinn frowned. “We may have a problem.”
“What?”
“It just occurred to me that while same-sex marriage is legal in Massachusetts, it isn’t down here in either Virginia or DC. How do we get around that?”
“I’m still listed as a resident of Massachusetts.”
His eyes widened, and then he grinned and shook his head again. “Go get a notepad and a pen. I’ll get the coffee and dessert and meet you in the dining room. Oh, and Mark?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m serious about having a short engagement. If we can arrange it, I’d like to be married by the end of the month.”
“This is the end of the month.”
“Ass.” He pinched my hip.
“So you’re saying September 30?”
“Yes. As I said, if we can arrange it—”
“Now who’s the ass? Of course we can arrange it.” I kissed him and headed for my study to look for a pad and pen.
~*~
“I NEVER THOUGHT about having a wedding, but if I had, I’d have wanted it this small.” I finished scrawling the last name on the list for the actual ceremony. Quinn had worked on a second list for the reception we planned as well. How had Matheson and Theo done it? They’d had almost three hundred fifty people at their first wedding reception.
“Did you include my godmother?”
“Allison Dashwood? Yeah. Although I wonder about her husband choosing a last name like Dashwood.”
“Choosing?” Quinn groaned. “Did you investigate him?”
“Sure I did. Did you think I’d let him get near Portia and not find out who he was?”
“Who is he?”
“Con man.”
Quinn almost spit out his coffee. “And you didn’t tell me? Tell us?”
“He’s mended his ways. I’m serious,” I assured Quinn when he glared at me. “Portia got rid of his bitch of an ex-wife—”
“Who?”
“Francesca.”
“She was his sister.”
“She wasn’t.”
Quinn groaned again. “Shades of The Thin Man.”
“Not really.” I knew he referred to the thin man’s ex-wife, who married another man who hadn’t bothered to divorce his first wife. “Dashwood had enough sense to divorce the bitch before he arrived in DC. Not that he told her. You never met Francesca. She was a real piece of work.”
“Did Aunt Allison know?”
“About Dashwood’s former career? Oh, yeah. He loves her, and he told her the whole story, but she knew even before then.” I should have figured. She was Portia’s friend, after all. “And then Francesca turned up. She was the one who sabotaged Dashwood’s first attempt at catering. Your mother is a pistol. I wish I could have seen her deal with the witch.”
Quinn ground his teeth. “If Chance hurts Aunt Allison, I’ll…”
“You won’t have to. Your mother and your godmother will deal with him.” I reached across the table and ran a fingertip along his cheekbone. “Anyway, that’s everyone. I’ll get the paperwork for our license started in the morning and make an appointment for the thirtieth to have the city clerk marry us—”
“Just a second. What about your family?”
“What about my family?”
“No one on this list is a blood relative of yours.”
“And that’s fine by me.”
“Mark, you’re only going to be married once.”
“I am, but what does that have to do with it?”
He gave me an Ice Man look. “You should have members of your own family there. Especially since we’re going to be in Fall River.”
“Fine.” Things were a little tense between me and my uncle and his family. Except for Steve, none of them liked me, and I didn’t have much use for them. Still, if that was the way Quinn felt, they could come.
“Give them a call.”
“What?”
“We’re not going anywhere this evening. Call them.”
It was my turn to grind my teeth together. “All right.” I reached for my cell phone and dialed the house in Fall River.
“Vincent residence.” It was Lilly, Steve’s wife.
“This is Mark. Is Steve there?”
“He’s not.” Her voice was frigid. “May I take a message?”
“Sure. I’m getting married, and I’m inviting you…”
Quinn nudged my ankle.
“And anyone in the family who wants to come.”
“I’ll let him know. Where and when will it be?”
“It’s tentative right now, but we’re aiming for Fall River City Hall at the end of September.”
“That’s very soon. Do you have to get married?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed so hard I would have snorted coffee from my nose if I hadn’t already finished my last cup.
“I fail to see what you find so amusing.”
“Yeah, I guess you would. I’m marrying a man.”
She started choking.
“Well,” I continued cheerily, “that’s all I had to tell Steve. You’ve got my phone number. Talk it over and let me know if you’ll all be there.”
“Very well. Goodbye, Mark.”
&nb
sp; “Bye, Lilly.” I hung up and turned to Quinn. “I hope you’re happy. Before I cleared it up, she thought we were getting married because you’re pregnant.”
“That’s why you were laughing.”
“Yeah. One thing I’ll say for my uncle’s wife, though. She’s fiercely protective of him.”
He slid an arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “I always knew you were an honorable man.”
“Huh?”
“You give credit where it’s due.”
“Ass. Flattery won’t get you anywhere. Now, do we call Portia and let her know we’re making honest men of each other, or do we go to bed and screw our brains out?”
“Decisions, decisions,” Quinn murmured. “Why don’t we do first one and then the other?”
“I love the way you multitask.”
He grinned at me as he dialed his mother’s number. Novotny must have picked up, because he said, “Hi, Gregor. … No, everything is fine.” He glanced at me, his grin broadening. “More than fine. … No, I’m back home. … Yes, in Mark’s condo.” Quinn winked when I growled at him. He was more patient than I would have been. “Is Mother there? … Please. And I’d like you both to listen in on this.” He hummed softly as he waited for Novotny to get Portia. Finally, he said, “Good evening, Mother. … No, I’m home. Just a second, I’m going to put the phone on speaker.”
“Is everything all right, sweetheart?”
“As I told Gregor, everything is fine.”
“How did the meeting with your publisher go?”
“It went well. I’ll be doing that book signing, although we have to decide on a cover first. I wasn’t particularly pleased with what they showed me, but… we’ll see. They want to start production at the beginning of October, but I’ll have to arrange it for later in the month because that will…” He drew in a breath. “It will interfere with our honeymoon.”
“Your… Sweetheart, does that mean what I think it means?”
“Yes, Mother. Mark and I are getting married.”
“I’m so pleased to hear this.”
“So am I, Quinn,” Novotny said, and I was tempted to ask what aliens had taken over his body, but with Quinn looking so happy, I decided to keep my mouth shut.
